Mauve Silk Pajama
by MeyRevived2
Summary: Fuma pays a nightly visit to Kamui in his sleep. PWP of sorts


**Disclaimer: **I don't own X, duh…..this is so silly!

* * *

**Mauve Silk Pajama**

Fuma crawled into Kamui' bedroom through the window in the middle of the night.

He had to wait a long time until the younger boy finely fell asleep before he could do it, and to wait a little longer before he was sure Kamui was fast enough in sleep to activate his plan.

He had to wait until the latest security patrol went past him so he can walk through each part of CLAMP campus to get to where Kamui was.

Tricky business that because he had to go through 16 different security patrol areas. But his aim was clear and his goal was precious, too precious to be abandoned because such difficulties.

Once he was in the small dark room seeing the figure on the bed, lit by the strong moon light coming through the window he knew it was all worth it.

Kamui lay on his bed in the depth of sleep unaware of his twin star tip toeing towards his bed.

Fuma had to be extremely careful now as he climbed in the slowest and gentlest of movement onto Kamui' bed and towards him.

He remembered, once in a sleepover many years ago, that Kamui woke up from the almost unheard noise of Kotori dropping something soft on the floor.

If Kamui wakes up now, with three other Seals in this apartment Fuma could fight as powerfully as he can but the chances of his defeat are too big to risk anything.

He had to be even more careful as he removed the thin blanket that covered Kamui so that his whole delicate frame was revealed to Fuma' hungry eyes like a tasty dish on the white plate of his bed sheets.

Once the offending fabric was removed Fuma crawled ever so carefully to sit between the boy' legs.

In the earlier stages of Kamui' sleep the usual guilt trip nightmares of painful events in the near past washed over Kamui the boy had twitched his body in the real world fighting off the troubles of his dreamscape. Due to this blessed nightmare Fuma got the privilege of sitting by Kamui splayed in such an appetizing position.

Now all Fuma had to do was to enjoy what was before him as shown to him by the kind full moon' light.

Kamui' angelic features were softened to a painful level of beauty. his sleep gave him such relaxation that Fuma didn't see on the boy' face in years.

He did see it once, on that far away sleepover.

Kamui was sleeping on his futon positioned between Kotori's and Fuma's.

when Kotori and Kamui were deep in sleep Fuma couldn't do the same so easily. He stayed up all night watching the boy sleeping by him and not even knowing why. At the time he was as fascinated by the amazing features as much as he was now but he had yet to acknowledge the reasons why he did it. his body didn't even react the way it did now, he was far too young for it.

Fuma now looked at the face and found it indeed a work of art deserving a whole night of musing over, but he did it before in his life and now he was old enough to want more.

He had noticed what Kamui was wearing to sleep: a light purple silk pajama that glistened as the light fell on it.

It wasn't the light that fell on the fabric that caught Fuma's attention nor the thought of what the pajama' color would do to Kamui' eyes.

it was the way the delicate fabric fell on the gentle body it was covering. Just like any other garment Kamui ever wore that wasn't tailored for him, this pajama was too big for him and the waves of fabric fell to the sides of the frame, enhancing it's feminine delicateness.

Fuma looked at the sleeping body before him from chest to feet, lingering on the lower abdomen and lower. The fabric fell there in such a kind precision, revealing while hiding the features, that Fuma actually felt like bowing and thanking the mauve pajama.

* * *

Fuma had to work hard to get Kamui to wear this pajama, thought his twin start was completely oblivious to it.

Fuma had noted the pajama in a store while walking to a kekkai he wanted to destroy.

The color was the first thing that attracted Fuma' eyes, then the idea that it sparked made the kekkai live to see another day.

His camilion abilities allowed Fuma to stand in front of the viewing window for hours on end without rousing any suspicion from passersby or the store keeper.

He stood there looking at the pajama, seeing and not seeing it as the wheels in his mind rolled to plot of how to get the pajama to Kamui and actually have the boy wear it.

He couldn't give the thing to Kamui for he knew that not only will the boy never wear it out of pure fear/puzzlement but the actual _process_ of giving it to him might turn out fatal to any of them and/or their Seals/Harbingers.

So he started thinking of who could give Kamui the pajama to get the boy to wear it. Who was trusted by Kamui? No one.

Who was close enough to seem innocent when giving such a thing to Kamui?

Sorata? Nah, why would the monk give Kamui pajamas! And a silk one, when that kendo-shrine-maiden-thingy would eye him angrily….

Subaru! Fuma could see wishes, which meant that he could see that lately Subaru' eyes were wondering from Seishiro to Kamui, if only at the slightest.

If he gets Subaru to notice the pajama Fuma just knew that the same thing that happened to him will happen to the onimoji.

Now was the really tricky part: how to get Subaru to see the pajama? He couldn't drag the Sumeragi by the hand and point at the thing in the viewing window whispering "wouldn't this look really good on Kamui?" something made Fuma feel like his appearance might not lead to any nice reaction from Subaru.

Who could get Subaru' attention from angsting to this pajama? The answer was so easy Fuma hardly bothered to finish forming this question: Seishiro.

But how will he get Seishiro to get Subaru' attention to something that would look really good on _Kamui_ of all people? Fuma could see wishes which meant that he could see Seishiro' wish to tare at Kamui' guts whenever he thought of his precious Subaru-kun not thinking about him and him alone.

There was a blunt solution to that, a very firm and aggressive solution that Fuma found no replacement to.

"Seishiro, I need you to get Subaru near 'Ajitsa Night Dress Center'"

Bewildered stare from one golden eye. Fuma loved getting the Sakurazukamori to break his usual poker face and actually show a true puzzled expression. "Why?"

"Just do it"

"Will it help break a kekkai?"

"No, not really…well actually there is a kekkai further on the way there but I need you to get Subaru to stand right in front of the main viewing window so that he could see what's displayed there. You can go break that kekkai later but first you have to do as I tell you"

"Why!"

"Because I said so! Don't argue with me Seishiro!"

"What's displayed there?"

"None of your business! Oh, and be extremely annoying to Subaru so that when you'll go away it'll leave him with a 'that bastard Seishiro' taste in his mouth"

"It's something you want to get Kamui to wear, isn't it?"

"….." sometimes Seishiro loved watching his Kamui break his mask of authority and pure evil to show a true puzzled expression. "N-no it isn't!"

"You know I don't like this whole idea of Kamui distracting my Subaru-kun, then why do you send _me _of all people to get him more into it?"

"I won't repeat my orders Sakurabaka, just do it!"

a long sigh and a final moaning in complaint "hai".

After that the plan worked in such a smooth way that Fuma almost became paranoid: Subaru, highly pissed off at Seishiro, noticed the pajama and the possibilities behind it and decided to purchase it.

Subaru, like Fuma, understood what it was to have an eye on Kamui: you can never have your fingers, or any other organ of yours, on him.

Kamui was the kind of boy that yelled your name loudly when your lips are inches from meeting so that you'll sober up from whatever surely crazy ideas you had in your head.

The kind of boy that knew what he wanted and knew what the men who wanted it from him as well but was far too shy to do anything about it.

The kind of boy that had to be admired from behind a wall of glass called 'Kamui' insecurity and suspicioun', like precious gems displayed in a museum.

Like Fuma, Subaru learned to appreciate the little brilliant glimmers of Kamui' beauty in the few times life threw them at them: When the sun fell in a complimenting way on Kamui' features, when the clothes he wore fell gracefully on his frame, when he made this gesture or the other that just made them melt inside.

So with endless angsting over 'this isn't going to work and Kamui will just freak out or throw this thing in my face' Subaru, ever so awkward, handed the gift to Kamui then ran off to curl in a corner and pretend he's not there while Kamui opened his gift.

Surprisingly Kamui just accepted it with many thanks that in Japanese could mean "oh thank you so very much" as much as they could mean "my god what were you thinking when you bought this thing!". Subaru actually had an extremely OOC wave of optimism as he thought to himself that the thanks were of the first meaning.

Kamui indeed found the gift odd if not disturbing. He chucked it at the very back of his little closet, pretending not to have it at all.

Fuma had no idea of how lucky he was that Yuzuriha put too much bleach into the latest laundry session/ the chemical ate at Kamui' favorite and only pajama, thus leaving him only with the sin-inviting silk pajama.

But Fuma didn't know that. All he knew is that Kamui was wearing his violet silk pajama and that he liked that idea very much.

What Fuma was doing now was not done for the first time; Fuma' nightly visits were becoming almost a matter of a routine until he started thinking he was addicted to the stuff. This visit, unlike the others, was the first one with Kamui' silken pajamas.

Now Fuma' eyes grew tired of fabric and hungry for naked flesh.

He used little sparks of his power to unbutton Kamui' pajama shirt without the need to touch. He used more to wave off the fabric, the shirt opening like doors leading to a fabulous room.

Now Fuma sat back on his heels watching the new spectacle before him:

the soft skin colored like pure milk and surely tastier, soft delicate perfect features like a work of art, small nipples that begged for physical attention, curves that were to die for. In his sleep this lovely view rose and fell softly in sleep' steady breaths assuring Fuma that the boy was still asleep.

Fuma felt the room around him was getting hotter, or was it just him? He loosened up his own shirt collar unbuttoning it, noting as his fingers brushed against his skin that he was sweating.

He tried to clear his head just a little bit; if he will lose himself to passion then he might stumble in his actions and wake Kamui.

Still Fuma found himself tugged down by his addiction to get more of Kamui.

He slowly crouched over the sleeping boy, checking beforehand that Kamui was still asleep, before fully leaning over him.

He carefully lowered himself until his nose was inches away from the creamy skin of Kamui' chest and inhaled deeply.

Once when they were little Kamui smelt like many things:

He smelt of the herbal shampoo his mother believed was good for his hair, despite the fact the actual process had to take a long time of soaking in the damn paste which annoyed Kamui (but proved as correct for Kamui' hair reached to unbelievable silken qualities and kept them). He smelt of the grass and flowers he rolled in during their play in parks or in Togakushi shrine' backyard. He smelt of little campfires playing Indians (A.N!). he smelt of ironing and laundry as his mother was a bit of a cleaning freak. He sometimes smelt of Fuma's mother's different perfumes that Kotori used to spray on him and herself while playing 'ladies' (god knows why Kamui was playing 'ladies' instead of anything a bit more masculine. Fuma supposed that could be due to the bizarre reason that made Kamui say he'll be Kotori' _bride_ one day).

Now what Fuma smelt was a mixture of many things that showed the difference between the little boy that he was then and the Dragon of Heaven Kamui that he is now:

He smelt of faint cigarette smoke, the result of hanging around the Sumeragi. He smelt of faint sweat, the result of his nightmares. He smelt of too much laundry in his sheets, the result of a house run by teens who never kept their own house chores and knew not how to do them right. He smelt of dried tears, the result of Fuma's actions and destiny's cruelty.

But above all Kamui always smelt, back then and now, of Kamui: a unique scent of vanilla mixed with coconut and cinnamon, like the exquisite delicacy that he was.

Fuma inhaled and inhaled and inhaled a little more until his head spun with hyperventilation.

still he didn't stop, he couldn't, he was addicted to the boy since he first met him ages ago.

Just as Fuma sniffed up Kamui' collar bone and in the lovely junction between Kamui' neck and shoulder he stumbled as he knew he would while driven by passion and need.

He leaned in too much on one arm, tilting the mattress under Kamui so that the difference in heights was noted by Kamui' sleeping mind enough to rouse him.

Just as Fuma almost lay on top of him, just as he was practically half naked and obviously brought to it by Fuma, just as Fuma was smelling one of Kamui' most erotic features

Kamui woke up.

* * *

Kamui lay on his bed frozen for a while. He didn't know what to do, what to think, what to say.

He woke up gently from a little thing, the kind of things your brain notes but never bothers to tell you about.

When he opened his eyes he began noting things that slowly slide him into a nice frozen little shock:

Someone was laying on top of him, between his legs.

That someone was Fuma.

His pajama shirt was open and that's not how he left it when he went to sleep.

Fuma was laying on top of him, between his legs….

Fuma's head was by his, he could feel the older boy's hot breath on his neck in a rapid rhythm.

What was Fuma doing? Why did he take such short and speedy breaths?

Kamui closed his eyes and tried to get back to sleep; maybe it's all a strange dream. But it wasn't a dream because by now, with all his Hinoto experiences, Kamui knew a dream from reality.

Knowing…..was Fuma trying to do it to him….biblically……oh god….

He felt the boy above him change position on the bed and didn't find in him the strength or the will to do anything but stay as he was; eyes open and awake.

Fuma drew his head away from Kamui's neck to look at the beautiful face from a better angle. In the breathtaking face he looked upon there were two lavender eyes open and seeing.

They stared at him in shock and fear.

Fuma stared back, the exact same look in his dark red eyes.

Oh my….

"Kamui….." he finely managed to mutter. Was that a sweat drop Kamui noted on Fuma's face?

"Fuma…..?...what…..?"

Fuma felt a horrible urge to correct his twin star with the usual 'I am Kamui' speech but something told him it's not the time to be the big bad DoE.

Then it was time for what?

Kamui stared at Fuma, Fuma stared at Kamui. It was an awkward moment. A very awkward moment.

"what are you doing here Fuma?" a simple, logical question that should have been followed by a few blasts of energy and maybe some bloodshed if Kamui had any common sense in him.

But Kamui didn't have a common sense in him when it came to Fuma. Kamui was, like his twin star, Fuma obsessed.

He dreamt about the older boy, about their childhood, about ways he might have changed what happened by other acts in the distant past or in the closer one.

Kamui wanted Fuma to be his friend again, but did he know that he wanted more?

Kotori was a problem, the dead girl between them. If they'd learn to walk over her dead body in order to get closer to the other then a lot of their problems would be solved.

They wouldn't, of course, because if they'd just see each other on top of some building or in a destructed site that used to be a building then they'd flare out into a fight like they're supposed to do.

In a sense they _needed _this accident to happen in order to have some sense knocked into them.

"what am I doing here….good question…." And with that Fuma began rising himself from Kamui, about to leave. He knelt up on the bed, still between Kamui's legs.

The younger boy just stared at him. Only now, as Fuma sat up, could he see the open buttons in Fuma's shirt and the meaning of them. He also saw the front of Fuma's pants and it flared something in him.

Something Kamui didn't know about, a fire. He could feel it in his chest; he wanted something but he didn't know what. He felt the heat rising in himself, he knew what that was, but he didn't know why he was reacting like that towards Fuma.

Looking down at Kamui once again Fuma saw the little change in Kamui. There was something growing in the lavender silk pants. It hardened until it stood up fully.

He saw Kamui looking at himself and turning into a very charming deep shade of red. There was desperateness and misunderstanding in the eyes that matched the fabric that covered him. It was like he was silently saying 'shut up! Shut up already!' to his body.

Fuma had to smile, couldn't help it. he didn't think his nightly visits would ever get to this but apparently this one did. lovely.

"Kamui" he had his evil grin on, the kind he had when he killed Saiki. Kamui didn't know what that grin did here and now but he didn't like it.

"Fu….it's, it's not what you're thinking I'm….." he was cut off as Fuma bent over him again and pressed their lips together.

Kamui jerked upwards, trying to toss the man above him off. Since the movement was not done full heartedly he didn't succeed, only caused some full body touch.

When they did Kamui could feel Fuma was hard too. The Dragon of Earth positioned himself so that their manhoods were leveled one above the other. The brief touch sent ideas spinning in Kamui's head.

'my god he's got a hard on….too….'

'he's kissing me with that thing down there'

'he's a good kisser'

'I wonder who he's been practicing on before'

'I bet Subaru wouldn't like the answer to that'

'that actually felt good'

'oh god'

his mouth was ravaged by Fuma's tongue, exploring every part of it, toying with his tongue, getting out only to lick his lips and dive back in. it was Kamui's first kiss and he found it a bliss.

Fuma stopped the kiss to look into Kamui's eyes. they were closed, and the breath he felt from the boy was rapid as if he just ran a marathon.

Fuma waited for Kamui to open his eyes then his hunger took over him and drove him for another kiss.

The fire burning in Kamui was wild, burning through all his body, making his jerk up again to rub against the boy above him, demanding.

Fuma stopped the kiss again "you're hot Kamui, you're burning. Is it because of me? Did I do that?" he whispered into the little ear, moving the thick soft hair to get access to skin he licked gently.

It was driving Kamui mad, Fuma enjoyed feeling the boy squirming under him; begging for attention and fighting that attention at the same time.

He wanted to watch Kamui's expression as he did all these things but from the little looks he snuck at Kamui he only saw that the boy was like in sleep. he was concentrating on the sensations, it's a good thing in a way.

Fuma planted gentle little kisses on the neck he smelt before, enjoying the fact that now he didn't have to make do with only smelling.

Kamui wrapped his gentle arms around the bigger body, enjoying the feeling of something like Fuma between them.

The broad shoulders from all the sports he did back in high school. The strong back muscles, this hot body against his.

Fuma returned to kiss his twin star, this time not bothering to his passion, he knew it was equal to Kamui.

As his lips worked his fingers began traveling across the body he so delightfully watched before.

With one hand he lifted himself above Kamui to gain access and with the other he saw without eyes.

His fingertips traveled across Kamui's chest, circling a nipple and another, noting the little jerks of pleasure from the body they were attached to. He dug his supporting hand under Kamui's body, drawing it towards his.

His hand traveled lower, gently caressing the hard member in Kamui's pants. A cry was muffled by the kiss.

Fuma slid his hand over Kamui's thin legs, enjoying the texture of the smooth fabric that covered them. But he didn't want fabric, he had enough of fabric, now he wanted skin.

He hooked his finger into the waistband of the lavender pants and was stopped by a weak, shaking hand. It was brushed away almost violently.

It came up again, placed on Fuma's chest just under the last button to be opened in his shirt. It began shaking opening the shirt and doing a very wobbly job at that. Fuma had to laugh at that.

"are you trying to strip me?" his voice was hoarse with lust, he really wanted just to take the boy and screw his brain out. But he had to keep himself content or Kamui might start fighting. He's better off like that, the shy little lamb that tried to undress him.

There was desperateness in Kamui as well, he was hungry for something immeasurably, he wanted something so powerfully he was almost screaming. Vaguely, he knew what he wanted but couldn't put it to words or actions.

He finely managed to open Fuma's shirt all the way down, his hands moving gently over the sinuous chest (A.N: hey, Fuma is an athlete….) still unsure of what they're doing.

His hands were moved as Fuma bent down and began to kiss the other boy's chest. He started licking little eight figures from Kamui's neck down all over his chest. Whenever he found a nipple he'd lick it gently then bite down ever so lightly, making Kamui jerk a little.

As he sucked gently on the second nipple his hand hovered lower, the finger tips touching from time to time, down to Kamui's member, gently touching without real touch. His hand then moved lower, running up his inner thighs until they met the hard hot member, yet still avoiding it.

It unnerved Kamui, the more Fuma touched him the more he wanted yet didn't want. This was Fuma after all, who licked his tears off of his eyes erotically, their lips so close, then slammed him against a wall and broke his ribs.

A finger hooked into Kamui's pajama waistband again, not brushed away this time.

Fuma removed the offending garment, feeling like he's opening a present. When he looked up at Kamui he felt like there's water in his ready to gush over and flood out. He rushed to lay himself on top of Kamui, smothering him with kisses all over his face, finishing with a long breathless, hot, passionate kiss.

Kamui was naked yet he didn't mind in a way, the look in Fuma's eyes was all it took to break down the walls that held his heart from feeling. As Fuma kissed him he kissed back, just as passionately, wrapping one arm around Fuma's broad back, the other resting on a buttock, and pushing towards him a little. The fraction between Kamui's naked body and the fabric of Fuma's pants was a pleasure that hitched Kamui's breath.

The kiss was broken as Fuma began kissing down Kamui's back again, nipping and licking from time to time. He kissed his way down until he found what he was looking for.

"Fuma!" Kamui had to clamp his hand on his mouth to keep himself from screaming any louder and awaken the other Seals as he suddenly felt a hot mouth enveloping him and a slight suction.

"god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh _god_" he was biting his clenched fist to keep himself forms creaming as Fuma ran his tongue up and down Kamui's shaft, then take him fully in his mouth again.

fingers tangled the black hairs of Fuma's head, grabbing and letting go as waves of pleasure ran thought the body he was pleasing. He flet like his scalp will probably be left in Kamui's hand by the end of it if he keeps it this way and so he stopped,. Leaving Kamui breathless and hungry.

And it was hunger, a hunger for something Kamui didn't know about up till now. Only now did he realize what he wanted, what his body ached to have. When Fuma's mouth was hovering over his, ready for another kiss he whispered "Fuma…take me now…"

One sentence, that's all it took, almost.

If Fuma hadn't come back to his lair after each of his nightly visits with a raging, painful hard on he wouldn't learn how to control himself.

He'd close himself in his room, lie on his bed and touch himself, dreaming of Kamui. He thought up words, speeches, cries and whimpers, acts, movements, pleads. So Fuma knew how to stall himself, how to keep himself from going over the edge over an idea of something such as what Kamui said. If he'd just have a quick session and end it then his fantasies wouldn't live long for the whole time he wanted them, and he wanted them long.

Kamui was almost vibrating with need, he was begging Fuma with every movement he took, every breath he drew, to take him and satisfy this need he started in him.

Now Fuma sat on his heels on the bed, looking at Kamui but with his mind elsewhere. He didn't want to hurt Kamui by this. if he did then maybe something of the magic of this would disappear and Kamui would shrivel down to the cowardly 'you're not Fuma anymore, I want Fuma' desperateness he'd get lately. Fuma didn't want a submissive Kamui of _that _kind. he wanted the live wire Kamui that grabbed his ass a moment ago and initiated a thing with just saying the words 'take me'.

The problem that was on Fuma's mind was of lubrication (1). Kamui wouldn't have anything as simple as a KY tube, nah, to people like Kamui that would be considered 'professional' (and not 'obvious' like it was to some people Fuma knew).

He bent down over Kamui again, running his hands over the silk skinned chest without even a thought of it, and whispered in his ear "Kamui, you wouldn't have some sort of a lubricant here, would you?"

It was a break in the current of what they were doing so far, like an unfitting shrill note in the middle of a harmonic melody. If Fuma hadn't whispered so sexually in his ear then Kamui would probably faze out of the whole air he was in.

"w…what do you need it for? I mean, what sort of a thing do you need?"

"I need something oily so that I will be able to enter you better, smoother" followed by a little thrust from a Fuma that started to have his pants removed by Kamui's still shaking fingers.

It wad the right things, Kamui's hands faltered for a moment over the half removed black pants. "enter you" it made Kamui shudder and the fire in him to flare out wildly.

"i…think…." Words were so hard to form when you're hard "I have…it's a….massage gel….something the Campus came up….it….the physiotherapist…." And words are hard to form when your lips ache for other lips that are now kissing up and down your neck "used it for my…." Sex is a hard thing to think of when you remember broken ribs and half torn limbs made so by the one you're having sex with.

"I see, where is it" Fuma was toying with Kamui's earlobe, kissing, biting, kissing again, licking, biting.

He raised his head from Kamui's scented hair and skin to look at the nightstand that probably was the only option. He rummaged through the drawers, pulling out a box of tissues here, a tube of TCP (2) there, then finely the right tube. He knew it was right by a little "em" from Kamui.

He looked down at his twin star, who was darting his eyes, clouded with lust, from the tube to his own shrouded eyes. the moonlight fell on a porcelain skin, showing the delicate jaw line, one high cheekbone, streaming light into one lilac eye.

Taking the tube with him and lying on top of Kamui again, Fuma ran his hand across these features that turned to him and out of the moonlight. "you're flawless, simply flawless, a perfect object, unblemished and pure"

Kamui tried to smile, but on the back of the palm of one hand laid on Fuma's chest, he could see a long scar from a sword that once stabbed his hand there. Not unblemished, flawed, no point trying to forget that just because they seem to be about to have sex.

For a moment a thought flew threw Kamui's mind; is that what Subaru thinks whenever he looks at the inverted stars on the back of his hands?

His thoughts were cut off when Fuma snatched the pillow from under his head and placed it under his pelvis.

A purple gaze full of puzzlement landed on Fuma's scarlet sure one.

"I'm taller then you so I need this for better access, you'll find it's more comfortable this way"

'better access'….oh god…..

Fuma emptied a small dose of the stuff onto his palm, it was indeed oily, so it might just the right purpose.

Dipping his finger in the stuff, like an artist with his pain brush in a bowl of pain, and began applying the stuff to Kamui.

Hands that lay on a chest curled, creating little scratch marks. Was it from pain or pleasure?

Fuma repeated the procedure, with a second finger and this time curled them both in a 'come here' gesture inside Kamui.

A fast instinct deprived the other three Seals in the dorms from waking to Kamui's scream of unexpected pleasure.

Kamui fought to gain his breath again as a pleasure he never thought he'd ever experience from this source, or at all. It wasn't the first one for this evening.

"Kamui' open your eyes" he obeyed "take some of this stuff and put it on me" soft voice, hushed and emotional.

Kamui's hands, ever shaking, emptied a little too much to his hand. His breath hitched a little with a tint of fear when Fuma relieved himself of his underpants.

And there he was, naked, and there they were, about to make love. Oh god.

Seeing the boy falter Fuma wrapped strong arms around a delicate waist and pulled the boy to a sit and a hug. They kissed for some while, building their emotions and courage for what's to come.

When their lips departed all Kamui had in his head was the fire inside of him, and the need. He quickly lubricated Fuma, enjoying the pleased expression on the older teen's face. Fuma was biting his lower lip and closing his eyes as Kamui's hand closed on his shaft and moved to apply the stuff.

Fuma placed a hand on Kamui's chest, gently pushing him back to lied down, the other grabbed his own manhood and he himself lowered himself towards Kamui.

He felt his way in, both with hand and organ, and then began to gently push in. gently until passion took on all of his acts, and then he just trusted.

Kamui arched his back with pain and pleasure. He jerked his hips upwards, taking Fuma in deeper. His breath hurried to a pace he knew was abnormal. His head spun, his body ached, but the fire never burnt so powerfully.

He wanted movements, he was desperate for it, after all that Fuma built in him.

"Fuma…" oh god he was thrusting, long rhythmical thrusts "faster…." Not enough, Kamui was almost completely sunk in the pleasure "harder…."

Fuma grabbed Kamui's member, matching his thrusts to his hand's movements and faster.

Kamui whimpered and moaned under him, his breath short and hitched. He was mouthing something, requests, pleads, just like Fuma wanted it.

"harder…." It was a plea that unlashed Fuma. he flew into a powerful rhythm, thrusts so hard Kamui was almost screaming. The beautiful expression was twitched as lips were bitten to silence cries.

There was a unique sensation that Kamui longed for since Fuma placed the first finger inside; something moved in him thus creating such sensations that whenever Kamui would think of it he'd feel like he's ready to burst.

"please Fuma, please, please, pleas, Fuma, oh god please!"

"Kamui…..oh…..Kamui….Ka….mui!"

they were sweaty, a sticky. Exhausted, satisfied yet burning for more.

The bed that soaked up all the body heat now beamed it back at Kamui, making him feel on fire, when the fire inside him weakened a bit.

He held Fuma in his arms, his twin star was heavy, sweaty as he was, still inside of him but he didn't mind, it was a moment he didn't want to waste. It was those minutes that Kamui promised himself he'll never forget. That fulfillment, the completeness. Kamui felt like a circle that was broken and now mended again. he held the boy above him tighter.

* * *

When they realized they were dozing off and that the morning after will be too hectic to finish such a night with Fuma began dressing again.

Slowly, garment after garment, with the slow movements of someone yanked from a long sweet sleep, Fuma dressed.

He pulled on the last sock when he heard his name carried on a voice that ached him as well as pleased him.

"Fuma" it was meant to start a conversation.

He brushed it off, pulling up one boot, then the other.

"Fuma" it meant 'answer me'

he tied his shoelaces. Damn these high boots with their complicated lacing.

"Fuma" it meant 'please pay me attention' in a moment he'll be desperate and cry.

Fuma got up, his head bowed, avoiding eye contact "what is it Kamui"

it meant 'I know what you're going to say and I don't want to open it for discussion, it'll only hurt us both'

but he didn't understand the understatements "what about…the battle…."

Fuma felt like cringing, bending into half and breaking into tears. He felt like screaming and tarring everything he had in sight into little bits.

Instead he kept it all inside, already longing for the company of the pillow on his own bed where he'll curl around and take it all out.

"I don't know" he walked to the windowsill and climbed it. he gave a little short glace to the boy on the bed.

naked, and so painfully beautiful, and his, and not his, never his, always his, beautiful.

"goodnight" a whisper on the wind. A wind that carried white feathers on it.

white feathers in a black void. Flying.

(1) eh he he he….yea, I sorta forgot to think of lubrication when I started this….silly girl, what kind of a yaoi addict am I? Well….not addict but I used to write a lot of smut so I'd expect more from myself….never mind….

(2) TCP an antiseptic for flesh wounds that could also be used for pimples. I guess Kamui could use both.

A.N: why didn't they make an English version for Du Hast? It's giving me a headache that language. Especially after Hellsing 3…..


End file.
